Reading Gregory's Eurydice
Reading Gregory's Eurydice
Wake: it takes the snake
big as a bracelet
to make
the mistake:
to break
open the crate
and create the place:
first intake
sharp haste
laid way
to taste
to make way
for her own OH! KAY!
the early outlook of snow
the early outlook of snow of course we can't watch it go entirely, the whole foot and a half of snow--measured as it were by work rather than yardstick or pole. snow goes in the dark too, you know, so that by morning days after the storm, days after the men with shovels dug and dug the requisite three feet for your ciborium shaped urn and later the same shovel propped like a guard fallen, scoop side up, and a measure of reflection if I were to lean over it and give over a little of the passing winter sky withering by or maybe not withering but instead un- knotting, like a tie at a man's throat, a man not used to ties, who, after the long event, gratefully tugged, undoes it and walks off into the still something- about- to- happen, the auger of waiting, or not so much waiting as yet waiting to arrive, but that's days still, days (and the shovel's leaning now against the house, having been returned) and days off.
Comments
Post a Comment